Motherland
by PXLism
Summary: Christine Daae ran from the only man she ever truly loved. Now, her daughter, ten year old Madeleine, returns to become Prima Donna. Will she notice her father lurking in the shadows? EC (Raoul-bashin)
1. Prolouge : The Friend Daroga

**Motherland**

Pxlism

Prologue:

_The Friend Daroga_

_Dearest Nadir,_

_I have a daughter._

_The light of my life, the piece that makes me whole, she filled the void that was left behind when I left him. It felt so different whisked away for all the wrong reasons. I now know how ridiculous my innocence had been. But in one night of maddening passion, he gave me a gift that I will always cherish. If it's any consolation, I'm not proud of all that happened. I'm not proud for leaving him, and not knowing him, or knowing what I should have done. Raoul sent me a clipping, which stated that he passed away, so I know there's nothing more than can be said, no pain that can stroked away. I can only hope God bestowed some mercy upon his misunderstood soul._

_Apologies and trying to give you excuses is not the reason I've decided to write to you after these past five years. I just wanted Erik's only friend and companion to learn of the daughter that he will never have the chance to know. Her name is Madeleine Destler, the first name, of course, taken from his mother and the last from the clipping that Raoul had sent. I wanted her to have every possible tie she could to him. I wanted her to grow and have the marvelous genius he possessed. _

_You are probably wondering how all this is possible? You, yourself, probably never thought it possible that what happened between Erik and I could have been done. You had told him yourself that it was impossible to be with me, that I could never be allowed to stay with him in darkness. Now that I'm much older, I can look back on my younger self and think of how ungrateful I had been to him. He had given his music, his heart, and what light he had left for the love he needed from me, and I, in my younger years and childishly loving Raoul, did not give it until the very end. Not until it was too late._

_Not a day goes by that I do not think of him, but I know that would give him a rather disgusting taste in his mouth. He was not the kind to be sentimental. Though he let me leave with Raoul all smiles, I knew he'd lose himself once I was gone. He was dying, and in my fear, I left him to do so. I hold a deep regret and resentment for myself when I think of it, a hatred that just won't die as the years go by. I know that if I would have stayed, if he had known that I loved him for him, that he could have fought past the morphine, fought past the pain. Erik is not one to die easily. He is not one to give in, lay down, and take what is given. He was a fighter. His determination was the reason I loved him. The voice, the genius, the beauty that he loved so dearly is continuing on in my only child._

_I did not marry Raoul de Chagny. I highly doubt I will marry anyone else. Once we arrived in England, I knew we were poorly matched. I had matured so much because of Erik, and Raoul was still boyishly handsome, boyishly charming. Sadly, his presence became so intensely annoying as we spent more time together. I couldn't stay with him and I couldn't stand him. Of course, my life could have been luxurious, rich, and materialistic with Raoul, but that is not who I am. I was not raised to be that kind of woman. Once I found out I was pregnant with Madeleine, I knew there was nothing connecting me to him anymore, neither the childish-love I once had, nor Erik's promise. I would never be alone, and I was glad of it. Erik was gone, but now I had a piece of him, a piece of his genius and love, and I would never allow it to leave me. I would have this new child carry on his beautiful legacy as best I could, and I know wherever he is, he would be proud of her. She is an extraordinary child._

_She was not born with any of his deformities. Her connections to Erik are obvious though. She has his same black hair, though it's wavy and curly like mine. Her eyes are also mismatched, and as his did, they have a piercing yellow glow in darkness. Unlike Erik, she is terribly afraid of the dark, and I must keep a candle lit at all times in her bedroom. She's a quiet child, but owns an air of mystery and mischief, as if she's plotting something great and mystical. She has a temper, but she isn't spoiled. I make sure she knows how lucky we are._

_Oh! You must be wondering about our source of income and where we are. We live in Manaco, by the beach. It's a very nice place to live, very calm and quiet. Raoul, though angry that I couldn't marry him, was still kind enough to help me find my very own home. He also help me start my business. I own a beautiful flower shop in the marketplace. Sometimes we struggle, but we never go without, and Madeleine and I are very happy. The only problem with it all is that Madeleine has taken Erik's penchant for hating Raoul! She dislikes him to the same extent Erik did! When he's even mentioned or stops by for a visit, she slips into the blackest of moods and will not leave her room until he's either taken his leave or I apologize. Temper, temper. She cannot stand him. Maybe it's just in her blood (from Erik, of course) to dislike him, because he hasn't done a thing to upset her. Last week, he mentioned Madeleine should call him 'Uncle Raoul' and he received the most devilish of looks. Let's just say he left her alone after that, but the chocolate cake I had baked for him was no where to be found. As I said, mystery and mischief. She loves creating and playing music, though, and is, at this very moment, practicing her violin and her flute. I'm so very proud of her. I'm sorry to report that she doesn't much enjoy architecture, but she does adore inventing, magic, and illusion. Her dream of being the greatest magician in the entire world was only created from the stories of her father's greatness in the field. It seems she aspires to be everything he was, and more._

_Even though Erik cannot be here with her, she loves him unconditionally. Him and his memory. It is the same for me._

_It's strange, isn't it? I was so very close to being a grand primadonna, but I'm happy being domesticated with a small flower shop and a beautiful child. Life can be full of good surprises. I'm glad to be living this way. I can only wish that your life is going just as well. Maybe one day, Madeleine can come to Paris to meet you. But not now. Not while all the pain still feels fresh._

_Maybe one day, someday._

_With Love,_

_Christine Daae_


	2. Chapter 1 : Goodbye Maman

**Motherland**

Pxlism

Chapter 1: Goodbye Maman

(Quick Author's Note: Urm. Yeah. I don't own Phantom of the Opera or any of the orignal characters. I own Madeleine only. That's all. This story is based on both the original book, Susan Kay's "Phantom", and certain parts of the play. I can't include the movie because it doesn't make Erik seem old enough to have the genius he's well known for. Enjoy!)

The sun always seemed to shine the same.

Days in Manaco never seemed to change. The tide would move in and out, the moon would fade and then come back to life. Many people who lived in chillier climates, like in England, simply thought Manaco was a paradise. To Madeleine and Christine, it was simply home. Change didn't seem to frequent their life.

It had been seven years since Christine's encounter with the Phantom, the night he had pulled her into the bowels of the Opera House and made her take the choice. It was all set upon her, all up to her, and she had chosen Raoul. She had accused Erik of allowing her to give him her thoughts, blindly, but she had been the one to _blindly_ choose Raoul. She had chosen him over the man she loved.

Years had passed, and the pain that had once been consuming was nothing more than a lost regret, something that could never be finished or freed. She would always think of him as her angel of music, but there was no such thing as changing history.

Now, things seemed to have settled. Christine's life was extremely prosperous and happy, not in riches, but in peace. With her daughter at her side, days seemed to pass by with no change. It would seem everyday she'd sneak into the young girl's room to tickle her so she would wake. Their tutoring lesson would begin, lunch, then off to work and school til dusk.

The day Madeleine made her choice was just like every other. Christine had started the day with a bit of sewing as she waited for Madeleine to wash up and get dressed. She tried not to look shocked when the young girl of only seven slipped into the parlor and gave her mother a exceedingly determined look, luggage in hand.

"I'm leaving now, Maman."

Christine, baffled by the young girl's statement, could only stutter in confusion.

"Leaving?" Christine tried to add a pinch of amusement. "Leaving for what? To where?"

The little child gave a simple, exasperated sigh and bestowed upon her mother another look, seeming more grown up than her young age should allow. Christine inwardly flinched. Was this the downside to having a child genius? Madeleine always seemed to know the obvious when Christine was totally oblivious.

"I am going to the Paris Opera House. I want to be a Prima Donna, and I cannot learn to be so here in Manaco. You should understand the most, Maman. You were the Prima Donna; I want to be the Prima Donna as well! I will be dreadfully unhappy if you do not let me go!"

Christine's heart seemed to throb in affection to her daughter's determination. Holding out her arms, she muttered a quiet 'come to me' and cuddled the raven-haired girl close to her breast when Madeleine obeyed.

"Do you know how sad I would be if you left? I would be all alone. And you are still so small, you have lots of time to become all the things you aspire to be."

The young child's head moved from lying against her mother's shoulder and gave Christine a pointed look.

"There is no time to waste! There are so many things I must become! I cannot wait much longer, Maman, I cannot!"

Christine gave her daughter a reassuring smile as her hand stroked her cheek. "Oh, my little genius, do not fret! You have all the time in the world to be the greatest prima donna, composer, inventor, and magician that has ever lived! Why, you will put the Leonardo Divinci to shame!" Christine gave her daughter a gentle pinch, teasing her to bring a smile to the young girl's sullen face.

Madeleine could not help the childish giggle that seemed to pass through her little lips. "Maman, Divinci was an ARTIST, not a composer!"

Christine hugged her daughter close and kissed her head. "Yes he was, but he was also a great inventor. As was your Papa! So very intelligent."

For a moment, the little girl was silent, then clutched her hands in her mother's skirts. "I wish I could have met him, Maman. I could have learned so much from him."

Christine felt a fresh lump slide into her throat, and with a forced smile, she stroked the girl's dainty curls. "Yes, I wish you could have as well, my sweet. Now, hurry off and put your suitcase away. You will make your journey one day, but not today. I need to feed Ayesha." With that, Christine gently lifted Madeleine from her lap and sat the child in the plush chair.

The little girl seemed to bite her bottom lip for a moment, then looked at her mother questioningly before she could retreat. "One day, Maman? I can go to Paris one day?"

Christine studied the little girl in front of her, with the thick, black curls and misallied eyes. She was a perfect vision of loveliness, with an aura of understanding and curiosity that seemed to belong to both child and adult. With strong conviction, Christine placed her hand over her heart and smiled.

"I promise."

Three years had passed since Christine had made her promise, but now she knew the time had come. She had explained to the eager child that it was not easy to become a Prima Donna, and she would have to be much older for it would be impossible to get the chance to sing arias on stage at 10. She would have to train in ballet first. With as much confidence as she could muster, Madeleine told her mother that 'impossible' was not a word suited for her. Christine had laughed and petted her head, but that unbridled confidence never left Madeleine's eyes. It was a tad overwhelming and frightening. Fate and destiny had their imaginations running wild when they decided for Madeleine.

Madeleine packed her suitcase the afternoon before the day she was to leave for Paris. Christine tried to break the news she had been dreading to relay to her daughter for at least a week. She knew that it would be an all out battle once the deed was done.

'_Christine, you are the mother and she's the daughter. You simply tell her the truth and be done with it!_'

Who would have guessed things did not work out that way.

"Maman, I must travel with that...that FOP?" cried the little girl in disgust and anger. "How dare you entrust me, your only daughter, on that blonde bafoon, and I even have to live with him, LIVE with him, Maman! Why can't I live in the dormitories with the other girls?"

Christine waved her hand impatiently, staring at the skinny girl standing in front of her. "Now, now, Madee, there is no need for you to throw a tantrum. You are desperately afraid of the dark, and there is no such thing as a night light in the dormitories. You would never sleep. And Raoul will do nothing to you, and has never done anything to you!" An exasperated sign left her lips. "Why do you hate him so?"

"He's a complete and utter idiot, in absolutely everything, and so confident, Maman! How could you do this, how could you do this?"

"Madeleine Janean Destler!" cried Christine, finally fed up with her daughter's blackened disrespect. "How dare you talk back to me! You are acting so spoiled and selfish! Do you not understand! Though I wish I did, I do not have the money to send you to Paris without his help!"

The dirt had been spilled, and Christine turned away, a hand placed gently over her mouth. Business had never been the best, but they had always made do. They never did have much though, only enough to feed them and clothe them. Christine could not afford a grand and safe trip to Paris without Raoul's help.

The room was very silent. She did not even jump when the little girl came up behind her and wrapped her arms around her mother's waist to give her a tight hug: her only form of apology. Madeleine could never voice her guilt, but Christine took it all the same, turning to kneel down in front of the child and embracing her in return.

"Maman…" Madeleine gave a soft sigh, then looked at her mother with a gentle smile. "I will try to be grateful, but I cannot help if my mischief annoys him."

Christine smiled, leaning forward and kissing her daughter's rosy cheek. "Of course not, I would never expect you to go easy on him, nor anyone!"

Laughter filled the room.

"You will write me everyday, won't you?" said Christine, brushing once again at Madeleine's velvet cloak, biting her bottom lip in worry. "You will not let time go by without writing, correct?"

Raoul made a sweeping gesture with his hand, patting the short and smiling down at her. "Oh, Christine, don't be so maternal! Of course, I will make sure she writes everyday. The 'Littlest Lottie' will be perfectly fine!"

Christine tried not to laugh as her daughter glowered at the Vicomte. Madeleine hated the nickname 'Littlest Lottie' just as much as she hated the idea of referring to him as 'Uncle Raoul'.

Her mother's childhood friend did not fool Madeleine. Though he was engaged to a girl named Deidre, he still did his damnedest to catch Christine's eye, but to no avail. To that, Madeleine was grateful. She hated Raoul de Chagny not only for the may he once spoke of her father, but the way he treated his fiancee.

Deidre was a rather plain, homely sort of girl who's favorite hobby was to read. To someone like the Vicomte, it seemed like a rather boring thing to do. Yet, Raoul was so foolish, he could not and probably never would see behind someone's face to the person within. It wasn't that Deidre was a horribly unattractive. She was actually, from Madeleine's view, rather intelligent, kind, and childishly pretty. When Madeleine had turned 10 in December, Deidre had given her music sheets, labeled with Madeleine's name at the top. The little girl had treasured them with everything inside of her, and only used them when absolutely necessary.

Deidre had been standing quietly next to the carriage, gazing up at the sky as the bleak, gray clouds that had been rolling in since the morning started to drop rain upon their heads. "We should hurry," she called out. "We want to at least start before the rain becomes worse."

Madeleine observed her mother once more, and was rather proud of the strong smile her mother gave her. "Make sure to take care of yourself," the older woman said to her daughter. "I do not want to hear of broken bones, colds, or even the slightest difference to what you are now, do you hear me? I would not wish to die of worry, I am far too young!" Ayesha, who was standing proudly and obediantly at Christine side, gave a sad meow. It was as if somewhere in the simese's small mind, it knew it would not see it's 'young mistress' for some time.

She, once more, took in Christine's beautiful laugh. One day, she would return to her mother the Prima Donna of Paris's famous Opera House. For a moment, she pondered her mother's unwinding smile. It seemed she would always remember her mother this way, with sweet blue eyes, and a smile that reached down and raked itself against the coals of her soul. She reached down to stroke Ayesha under the chin, the cat regarding her with it's sad blue eyes.

"Why do I feel like this is goodbye?" said the little girl, rather brokenly. Madeleine would dare not cry infront of the fop who stood, trying his damndest to intrude on the mother and daughter's last moment. Madeleine did not want Raoul to see her cry. He would tease her about it later, she knew it.

"Never goodbye!" Her mother said with strength and emotion breaking through her voice. "We say 'Til we meet again'…"

With one last hug and kiss, Madeleine turned and began to walk slowly towards the carriage. As she began to climb in, she turned to her mother and Ayesha who were standing a few feet away, both gazing at the young girl with hopeful eyes.

"Til we meet again!"

She had never done anything more boring than riding to Paris in Raoul's carriage.

It did not rain the whole way, but the sun did not come out once during the week it took them to arrive. Raoul had been the most irritating, singing songs in his horrid, highly pitched voice to pass the time and _entertain_ them. More than once did Deidre and Madeleine flinch because of the horrible sound coming out of his mouth. Madeleine finally told him to shut his mouth after twenty minutes, because his voice was so terrible, her ears felt like they would fall off.

Deidre was much kinder about it. "No more, Raoul, dear. Please, but I already have a bit of motion sickness."

With that, Raoul sat in the corner and pouted like a young child who was scolded by an adult

It wasn't ten minutes later that he started up playing a game called 'I Spy'…After 15 minutes of agony with his ignorance, he was scolded by Madeleine again to shut up and be quiet for the rest of the journey.

Soon enough, a bit of idle, boring conversation started up about the most unoriginal subject known to man: the weather.

This continued on and on. They stopped every night at separate inns along the way, sleeping until dawn, then waking up to continue their journey. When Deidre told Madeleine they were almost upon Paris, Madeleine was not only grateful, but also excited.

It was a new town, a new beginning, and a better tomorrow. What an adventure waited for her there!

(To Be Continued)

I have no idea how long it would take to get from where Christine lives and Paris, so please, look over it if you think it's longer. :Yawn.:


End file.
